Survivor's Syndrome
by Pachowable
Summary: Jason was dead. Artemis is dead. Sequel to Survivor's Guilt.


**A/N: Sequel (middle-quel?) of Survivor's Guilt. Jason's view on Artemis being "dead". This was a butt to write, but I'm glad I got it done. Please review and stuff...  
**

**__**Survivor's Syndrome**  
**

**_Survivor's Syndrome (n)_**_ is a mental condition that occurs when a person perceives himself or herself to have done wrong by surviving a traumatic event when others did not, more commonly known as _**_Survivor's Guilt (n)._**

Artemis _is_ dead.

Jason _was_ dead.

It doesn't make sense—nothing makes sense anymore. Even the world seems to be at ends with Jason's thought process.

It's an acceptable thing considering the things he's gone through…being a kid on the streets…having a family after not having one for so long…becoming Robin…_dying_…coming back to life in some unnamed manor…the Lazarus pit to just _fix him_…and now here he was. In Gotham again. One would think that he would avoid Gotham after everything he had been through.

They were _mostly_ right.

There were occasions—mainly just _one_—where Jason deemed it necessary that he had to come back to Gotham.

It was necessary to respect her.

By the time he made it to the graveyard, most had left already, and Jason preferred it that way. It meant less of a chance that someone would see him. He was supposed to be dead. He wanted people to remember it that way. He knows if people know that he's alive that they'll connect it…

_Maybe if Jason came back Artemis will too._

Jason…Jason doesn't want that. More than anything does he want Artemis back. _Oh god._ There's nothing more than he wants is to see Artemis laughing and smiling. Joking about his obsession with chili dogs or maybe just holding him and telling him to never leave again. At least, that's what he would have done.

Out of everyone he was excited to see when he came back, she died.

Artemis was dead.

And Jason didn't want to be that stupid, little spark of hope in people's eyes that make them think that everything _might just be okay._ Jason doesn't want to be hope or even inspire it. He doesn't want to inspire falsehoods—it doesn't stop the small part of him that would wait any amount of time just to see Artemis again.

Jason can already hear the chatter in his ears, _why did Jason get to come back and not Artemis?_ It plays over and over and all he can think of is that she's dead. He's alive and she's dead. That's not how it's supposed to be. _No_. He was the one who made the mistake in the warehouse. He was the one who was stupid enough to get himself killed.

He saved Art…and now she's dead.

_What's the point of saving someone if they're just going to die?_

The voice inside his head that embodies Batman already has a list of answers to his question. Jason ignores every single one. All he feels is _guilt_ instead. They say that survivor's guilt is a killer. To see people die around you while you just live. What was Jason in this situation? He died. He was the guilt causer, and now he's back. He's alive. Is he even allowed to feel guilty in this sort of situation? He should be thankful. He should be crying in joy of how he can live again. He shouldn't be like this. He shouldn't be guilty.

All he can think about is how for some reason he came back to life while many other people would never get this chance.

Does that classify as survivor's guilt? Or is it something else entirely different.

Pulling his red hood up even more and making sure his sunglasses—although, would that really deter them from figuring out who he really was?—were on, he walked passed the small group that was left at the gravesite. They had just lowered the body down and most were dropping flowers down into the grave on top of the casket.

He stops in front of the hole. It seemed so _deep. _To only think it had been a couple months since he had been in one of those _dead._ To think it had only been month since he dug his way out of his own grave. He only hopes that Artemis won't ever have to do the same.

The white lily that he had been holding ever since he had bought it from the vendor finally dropped down onto the casket to among the other flowers that would be buried.

She was dead and he wasn't.

Wasn't that the _opposite _of what happened?

There were people all around the world who were dying—who _have _died and here he is _alive. _He got to come back when there were much better candidates. He feels as if he should be grateful that he's alive, but _why_ just echoes in his mind every moment.

_Why _was he alive? _Why _did he come back? _Why _did he deserve it? _Why_ isn't she back?There's all these _why_'s and Jason can't seem to figure out any of them. _Why_ is it that all he can do is just be a little, pissy kid in red hoodie who can't just take the fact that he's not dead anymore and run with it.

Jason knows he's been standing there too long—they might get suspicious of somerandom kid standing there—just staring down at the single white lily on top of the other flowers—maybe if he stood there long enough he would be able to help her out of the coffin. She wouldn't have to do it alone like he did. He could help her—he could—

Artemis _is_ dead.

Jason _was_ dead.

There's no _why's_, there's no _questions_, there's no _hope_,there's no _lies_, there's no _clichés_, there's no _choices_, there's no chances, there's no changing it, there's not _anything_ _anymore_.

There's only _guilt_.


End file.
